Boxed In
by Bananas102
Summary: When Sam and Dean get stuck in a vault, they have nothing to do...except listen to Lucifer babble.


Winchester luck was just in endless supply.

Sam and Dean had been on a hunt to get a cursed object and it was in a very big vault.

With a faulty doorstopper that suffered Dean's wrath.

It had been about 20 minutes, an already the two were going crzay.

Well...three if you count Lucifer.

"I really hope I'm not gonna have to take a piss any time soon."

Sam snorted.

"With all the beer you downed before coming, I can say your hope isn't going to last."

"Shut up," Dean snapped.

"Oh, that's mean," Lucifer said with a pout.

Sam twitched slightly, which Dean didn't miss.

"Do we have company?"

Sam reset his jaw, which was all Dean needed.

"How 'bout you tell him to fuck off?"

Sam looked to the right, and Dean followed his gaze, and watched Sam raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Lucifer put a hand on his chest in mock hurt.

Sam scoffed lightly and rolled his eyes.

Lucifer suddenly got real close to him, and Sam flinched and shot him a glare.

"Aw, c'mon Sammy, don'cha wanna snuggle?"

Sam huffed bitterly, "It's Sam."

Dean almost smiled.

Lucifer shoved knives through his limbs and Sam just sat there, rigid, until he was done.

Dean watched in concern, internally boiling as he knew he couldn't help.

Then Sam relaxed, and he knew whatever just happened had stopped.

"So, Sammy," Lucifer said, scooching close to him and pulling out..pixie sticks?

"Do you like pixie sticks?'

Sam stared at him and Dean frowned.

Finally, Sam spoke. "It's Sam, and...why the hell would you want to know if I liked pixie sticks?"

The way Sam said, and the look on his face, made Dean snort.

Sam glanced at him.

"Dude, are you serious? He wants to know if you like pixie sticks?"

Sam shrugged. Then it seemed as though his throat was full of the power.

He coughed. Then again.

"Sam?"

Sam lifted his hand slightly, telling Dean to wait, that it would pass.

It did after about five minutes of coughing and trying to breathe.

Sam sighed, looking like he shouldn't have expected less and he also looked like he was dealing small an annoying child.

"M'fine."

"What'd he do?"

Sam shrugged.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam."

"Why do you suddenly want to know?"

Dean gestured to the big metal box they were sitting in. "Because I swear to God, I'm going to go crazy if we don't talk about something."

"Then how 'bout we talk about something else?"

Dean narrowed his eyes. "'Cause I wanna know."

"You are so stubborn."

"Just one of my charming qualities."

Sam rolled his eyes.

Lucifer opened up a magazine. "Look at these shoes," he said looking at Sam solomly. "People are overpaying," he said as though it was an important fact he should store in his memory.

Sam just avoided him. He was starting to believe Lucifer would never shut up.

"Aw, don't be that way. Don't stop. Belieeviing...," Lucifer sang.

Sam put his hands over his face. "Oh god," he muttered.

Dean cocked his head to the side. "What?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You really wanna know?"

Dean shrugged. "Well, if you must. He's singing."

Dean stared at him blankly before the corner of his mouth twitched.

"He's..._singing_?" his voice was unusually high-pitched.

Lucifer grinned. "I think he likes it."

Sam deadpanned, facing him. "He wouldn't if he could hear you."

Lucifer mock-fainted.

Sam blinked twice. "What the hell?"

Lucifer righted himself and started clapping. "You and I are having a conversation. I'm proud of our progress."

Sam inched to the side.

Dean couldn't help it; he cracked.

"Sammy...dude..._the look on your face_!"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Dean. How 'bout we switch places and you chat it up with the Devil?"

Dean sobered up. "Nah, little brother, that's all you."

Lucifer scooched in close, way too close in Sam's opinion, and ran a finger up his arm.

"See Sammy, I'm special."

Sam wrinkled his nose. "That's disgusting."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "Rude."

Sam scoffed. "Well maybe if you would just shut up for five freakin' minutes I wouldn't be so crabby!"

Dean swallowed what would have been a very manly giggle.

* * *

3 hours later:

"He _still _talking?"

"Now do you get it?"

By now Sam was up and pacing.

"Sam, remember what your mother told you," Lucifer admonished.

Sam stopped cold, his head slowly turning.

"And what would that be?"

Dean frowned and kept his gaze on his brother.

"You're a freaky little bitch that deserves to burn with me for all time," he said in a chipper voice.

Sam scowled. "That wasn't Mom, that was one of your stupid little illusions."

Lucifer shrugged, flipping through his Guinness World Records book.

"You remember them?" Sam resolved to sit on the only unoccupied wall, not including the door.

"Yes," he muttered.

Lucifer gave him a smile. "That's good, Sam."

Sam scoffed bitterly.

Suddenly, a song started playing from nowhere.

Sam glanced over at Dean, who was watching him.

He sighed. "You don't hear that, do you?"

Dean hesitated, then shook his head.

Sam pursed his lips and begrudgingly looked over to where Lucifer was sitting.

He had a radio on his lap.

"I'm on the hiiiighway to hell, M'on the hiiiighwaay to heeelllll...," Lucifer sang.

* * *

"You boys in there?" Bobby yelled from the other side.

Both boys jumped to their feet.

"Yeah, Bobby, open up!"

"Gimme a minute, ya idgit!"

Dean grinned.

When the door opened they squeezed out and Dean raised his arms to the ceiling.

"Hallelujah, home free!" he whooped.

Sam shook his head, smiling to himself.


End file.
